


It Doesn't Really

by neverfinishe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Mission Fic, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfinishe/pseuds/neverfinishe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two agents save a third agent, and Natasha thinks they're all idiots, except (maybe) Maria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Really

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of a fill for this ( http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19023.html?thread=44912463#t44912463 ) prompt. This also happens to be the first 'long' fic I've written in a loooong time, and I'm aware of some of the bendy logic. I might work on it later, but I've had this one sitting around for a week trying to make it all work.
> 
> Set post-Avengers, pre-CATWS.

"You know, I'm not partial to missions that involve saving people when I don't even get a name," Clint says into the comm.

Natasha doesn't respond verbally. She's too busy pulling a cord tight around a man's neck. She does roll her eyes at Clint's whining, despite thinking along the same lines.

She lets the body drop to the floor and continues to the door at the end of the hall.

A lack of information always stands out in a suspicious way. After the last mission, she's a bit on edge. The only calming aspect is that she knows that the assignment came directly from Fury, and she trusts Fury.

"How do we even know when we find him? Her?"

Natasha doesn't answer as she pushes the door open. She stops moving when she sees a chair in the middle with ropes still hanging from it. They were cut, and there's blood on the floor.

"Nat?"

"They moved," Natasha says after a moment. "They aren't here."

She hears Clint curse, "Why the hell is it so guarded then?"

"Maintaining the illusion."

"See if you can find any hint of where they might have gone. I've got a date."

Natasha doesn't bother questioning what that means. Some unfortunate bastard is going to be interrogated.

Whoever they're supposed to retrieve is important. Fury rarely shows much emotion. She's one of the few lucky enough to get to see him as a man. Even then, he doesn't typically show fear, but she's certain that she saw a flash of it in his eye as he briefed her on the details.

Natasha picks through the rooms on the floor quickly. There are papers and other miscellaneous belongings, but she doesn't find anything useful. She moves up the stairs with the intention of making her way through the next level. There are two men waiting for her, but she disarms both easily. 

The first room she comes to is furnished. There's a king-sized bed with an expensive comforter on it. In the corner is a desk and an office chair. There are hardcopy files strewn about, but they've already been rummaged through. She looks through them anyways, but nothing stands out. She sees 'SHIELD' and 'Fury' more than once, but none of the files give her any information on where the ringleader or the person they're supposed to rescue has gone. She can't find any real motivation for the apparent kidnapping. It has to be an attempt at SHIELD intel. Nothing else makes sense.

The contents of the desk drawers are useless. She’s about to move to the next room when she pushes the middle drawer back in and feels it snag.

A small smirk forms as she starts looking for a way to get the hidden compartment open. Once she finally does, she finds a laptop inside.

"Now we're talking," she says to herself as she opens it up.

"Terrible date," Clint speaks up, "Didn't talk much. I think there might be something wrong with his arms."

"There might be something wrong with your's if you don't let me focus," Natasha warns.

She swears she can hear the grin in his voice when he response with a 'roger that'. She shakes her head and focuses on the task at hand. The files are encrypted, but that doesn't surprise her.

"Nat? We've got problems."

"Barton, I swear-" She stops short when she hears multiple gunshots and a cry of pain.

Dammit.

She quickly transfers the data to a flashdrive and takes off running. She can work through the files later.

-*-

"You could be a little gentler, you know," Clint says (whines) as Natasha works to stitch the wound on his side shut. It's a graze, but there's now a chunk of skin missing and a decent hole left in its place.

Natasha pulls the last stitch a little tighter than necessary. Clint jumps and tries to pull away, but she's already anticipating the reaction. She keeps him from moving too far and finishes tying the last stitch.

"Did you get anything useful?"

"Not sure," Natasha says as she wraps the wound and moves to grab her laptop.

"Talk to Fury yet?"

"No."

There's a pause before Clint speaks again, "You aren't going to, are you?" There's something about her tone that makes that clear.

"He has his secrets, we have our's."

"That sounds a little bitter."

"I can give you a matching bullet wound."

Clint shuts up after that. He's only teasing, but he can tell when he's struck a nerve. He pulls his shirt on and moves to stand behind her. This kind of thing is much more up her alley. "Any idea how long it will take?"

"Not sure, it could- got it," Natasha says with a smile. She pulls up a file. One eyebrow arches when she's met with a map.

"There," Clint says, putting his finger on a spot. She looks at it, but she can't piece together why it stands out in his head.

"That's all I got out of the guy," he explains, "Something about Tate. Didn't make sense."

"Let's go," Natasha says and closes lid after transferring the data to her phone.

-*-

The plan is simple enough. It's one they have used a number of times when they need to get in and get out with as few complications as possible. They're supposed to report their findings to Fury once they rescue their target. Fury can deal with things from there.

Clint is the decoy. He breaks in and causes trouble, diverting a good bit of the attention to him while Natasha finds the target.

She waits for the signal from Clint and drops from the vents once she's sure her immediate path is clear of trouble. She's not exactly sure where she's going, only that she needs to get to the basement. 

Two men with guns stand with their backs facing her when she turns the corner. She takes advantage of their inattention and knocks both of them out.

She leaves a small trail of bodies behind her as she goes, not slowing down but for a few seconds each time. They are all taken out with ease, and soon she finds the door that opens to the stairs that lead down into the basement.

The basement is disturbingly quiet. It's dark with no sign of a light switch. She flips her phone light on to search for the switch. Carefully, she scans the area and stops cold when her eyes land on a figure in the middle of the room.

"Clint," Natasha says, not bothering to hide her shock. "You need to get down here."

“You okay?” Clint asks. She can already hear the background noise fading as he moves away from the mass of people trying to kill him. There’s still yelling and gunshots in the background, but he’s run right in the middle of worse with nothing to arm himself with.

“Fine. Get down here.”

Natasha doesn’t respond to whatever he says next. She’s too focused on the person in front of her. It takes effort to look away and resume her search for a light switch. She needs to be able to see what she's working with.

The light reveals bruises and cuts, exhaustion, and a disturbingly greyish skin tone. She moves quickly and pulls a knife from her ankle. She starts cutting at the ropes. With Clint heading towards them, they’re out of time.

“Agent, can you hear me?” She asks, looking up at half-cracked blue eyes. They’re glassy and bloodshot. Bottom lip is busted. The rest is dried and cracked from dehydration. One eye is swollen and surrounded by purple.

She hears a noise that makes her work a little more urgently at the ropes. “Agent?” The ropes drop to the ground as she cuts through the last of the ones tied around bruised legs. “Agent,” she tries again. She reaches a hand up to cup the Agent’s cheek. 

“Agent Hill... Maria!”

There’s a soft groan, and Natasha feels some relief. It’s not much, but she’ll take it.

She moves from feet to hands and shifts so she can brace one arm against Maria’s shoulders, keeping her from crumbling to the floor once she cuts her free.

“Barton,” she snaps into the comm as she works. She doesn’t think she can get Maria out on her own. Maria can't walk on her own. Natasha could carry her fine. She’s carried Barton out of wreckage before, but she can’t do it and ensure both of their safety. There’s too many risks.

“Moving as fast as possible,” Clint answers. She can't hear anymore gunshots, but his voice is still hushed. 

Natasha calls for an extraction not far from where they are now. Maria needs medical attention as soon as possible, and SHIELD has a hell of a mess to clean up.

By the time she disconnects, Clint rounds the corner. He pauses in the doorway. There’s shock easily mixed with concern on his features. He pushes away his emotions, refuses to slip out of agent-mode when there’s another agent’s life in the blanace.

“I’ve got her,” he says.

Natasha nods. She moves her arm and lets Clint take over. She knows what that means. She needs to guard them, lead trouble away if she has to. She prefers the role. She’s quicker on her feet than Clint.

"Extraction point three blocks down,” she says before moving out of the room with her sidearm already drawn.

Clint looks down at Maria again. There’s no way she could get a good grip on him. Her eyes are closed, and he doubts she could manage it even if she were awake. That makes the vents incredibly difficult - if not impossible.

He picks her up and runs. It’s what he does best, second only to being a marksman. He knows it can’t be good for her injuries, but they don’t have time. Natasha is making a beeline towards the biggest obstacle, heading them off. His only chance at escape is to run for the back entrance Natasha used to gain access to the ventilation system.

He’s halfway there when he hears shouting and gunshots. They aren’t far off in the distance, and he forces his legs to move a little faster. His side is on fire, but he forces that to the back of his mind.

Maria’s quiet and still in his arms. It’s the most unsettling thing he’s dealt with in awhile. She’s never still or quiet. She’s constantly in motion and barking orders at Fury’s side or in his place. She helps keep SHIELD in motion, and he has the tendency to forget that she's just as human as he is. No powers, no serum.

His vision starts to get fuzzy around the edges, driving him to push harder. The human body isn’t meant to be shot twice prior to running. The second wound is bleeding freely; his side feels like it's on fire.

Right, left. Up the stairs, and left again. That’s all. Three more blocks after that, and they’re safe. Maria can get the attention she needs, and someone can plug him up and call it a day.

He stops about halfway there. He leans his and Maria’s weight against a brick wall and tries to fight the way his body sinks.

“Tash, ‘ve got a problem,” he says. “Still a block and a half away.” It's only about point-one-five miles, at the most. He should be able to do it, but he cradles Maria closer to himself instead, making his body a human shield.

“Stay put,” Natasha says. Her voice is calm, tone even. He’s grateful for it.

“Staying put.”

He shifts so he can lift Maria’s shirt up enough to see her stomach. There’s bruising, but it isn’t too horrific. It’s still possible she’s bleeding internally, but it could be worse.

-*-

The blood loss gets the better of him, and the next thing he knows, he’s on a jet with a light being flashed into one of his eyes. He doesn’t appreciate it. His arms feel entirely too heavy, and it takes him a moment to realize his lap feels too light. There should be a body there.

He tries to push himself up, but there’s a hand on his shoulder. Small, but strong. He looks up to meet Natasha's gaze.

“She’s being taken care of,” Natasha says and indicates to where several medics are looking over Maria.

Clint lets himself fall back against the bench. He winces at the pain that shoots through his side.

“Two gunshot wounds to the side.”

_Fuck, she sounds angry._

“It was the only reasonable option-”

“Reasonable would be telling your partner about a second, actively bleeding, gunshot wound.”

_Pissed._

“It worked out,” he says, and continues quickly before she can say something else in a snappish tone, “She gonna be okay?”

“Overall? Yes,” Natasha says. She settles beside him and slumps her shoulders. She’s just as exhausted as he is, and she’s probably ready to claw Fury’s good eye out.

Clint doesn’t ask what that means. He's just glad they have her, safe.

He starts to doze when he feels something touching his hand. He smiles softly when he recognizes Natasha intertwining their fingers. It puts him a little more at ease.

-*-

"I can't do my job properly if you keep secrets from me, Nick. Important secrets," Natasha's voice is quiet but no less angry as she speaks.

She understands compartmentalizing and all of his other bullshit, but failing to mention this? This could have gotten both of them killed. Going into a rescue mission is one thing. Going to retrieve and rescue the Deputy Director of SHIELD is an entirely different game. Hostiles don't take people like Deputy Director Maria Hill on accident. They take people like Maria because they (think they) know what she's worth, and that makes them either incredibly dangerous or incredibly stupid (both, in this case).

"I withheld information as I saw fit," Nick answers, calm and cool, angering her more.

"Because of the information you withheld, Clint could have bled out. The hostiles would have caught up to them. Both of them could have died," it's one thing for him to not trust her with sensitive information, it's another for him to nearly get Clint killed because of it. To nearly get his own second in command killed because they were ill prepared. All for his secrets. "I can't work with your secrets."

"My secrets getting out are what nearly killed her," Nick snaps, stabbing a finger in Maria's direction. For a moment, he's completely open. Concern, fear, anger. It's all there for less than a split second, but it's enough that it leaves Natasha momentarily lost for words.

"What's going on?" She asks, her voice softer now. It's barely above a whisper. Even Nick snapping couldn't wake Maria. There's a good deal of sedatives and pain killers in her system.

"Maria is the biggest weakness in SHIELD."

For a moment, it doesn't make sense. Maria is one of the strongest assets to SHIELD. She's kept it running on her own, without Fury, for long periods of time. She's done more for SHIELD than most of the STRIKE teams combined.

She reaches up to brush her fingers over the arrow hanging from the necklace she had bought some time ago. It clicks in her mind then. Maria is SHIELD's biggest weakness, because she's Fury's biggest weakness. Arguably, Fury is SHIELD.

"You and Agent Barton are not the only two to bend the rules," or flat out disregard them, as it stands. Fraternization rules are quite clear.

She's still angry, which is why she shoves the flash drive into his hand. "That's what I've got," she tells him and walks away from him and over to Maria before he can say anything else.

She's never liked hospitals or medical. They have a way of making a person look even more fragile than they already do.

Maria does look a little better now that the blood has been cleaned up. One of the cuts on her head has been butterflied shut. Her lip has three or four stitches in it. Natasha knows those wounds are mere papercuts compared to everything else. Several fractured ribs on both sides, lacerations varying from an inch to several inches in thickness, length, and depth, six broken fingers, the bone on the tip of her left ring finger is completely crushed, left leg broken in three places, a concussion, drug toxicity... the list goes on.

Everything should heal, except the ring finger, and they don't yet know if the toxicity has caused any damage. In regards to the drugs, the good news is that the drugs were used as a last ditch effort to make Maria talk. They were administered last, and the doctors were able to do some intervention that should prove helpful.

Maria is looking at several months of healing and physical therapy. She won't be working for a long time.

"You have worse taste than I do," Natasha says. Her words are light, despite the irritation she feels towards Nick. She brushes her index finger over one of Maria's undamaged ones. Maria is nothing if not resilient and strong.

She turns back, stops in front of Fury, and speaks, "Это не ваша вина." With that, she moves past him to go check on Clint. She knows Fury will take care of Maria. She also knows that he feels guilt. These people went after Maria because of her ties to Fury and SHIELD. They expected to be able to break her to get information that no one else could provide, short of Fury himself. Comparatively speaking, Maria is a much easier target.

Briefly, she entertains the question of what sorts of ransom demands these people made, or if they sent videos. She doesn't want to think about it too much.

The concern is how the hell they found out. They didn't just take an Agent, second in command to SHIELD. They took someone they convinced themselves they could pry information out of or use against Fury, emotionally. They must have injected her with the last round of drugs upon realizing SHEILD agents were coming after them.

-*-

Nick waits until he hears the door click behind Natasha before moving to sit in the chair next to Maria. He's gentle as he takes her hand in his own. Two of her fingers are in a cast that covers her hand and her wrist.

He brushes his thumb over her index finger. He's always admired the difference in sizes between his hands and her's. He knows what she's capable of. Her smaller, softer hands have never made him think 'fragile' until now.

His thoughts briefly go to the flash drive in his pocket. He considers letting Natasha handle the information. She's right, and he knows. He trusts her, despite what she sometimes thinks, but he can ask her later. Right now, he won't move. The world will spin on without him and Maria for a little while. He just wonders if it can spin on for six or more months while she heals.

A smile briefly makes an appearance as the thought occurs to him that he might be lucky if he gets a month before she's back up his ass. He won't let her on active duty, but he can't stop her from much else.

There's still obstacles she needs to overcome before she can get to that point. The tip of her finger is as good as gone. As far as physical damages go, she should be fine. She's been through worse. Chemically? They don't know. There could be a laundry list of things that could effect her.

-*-

Clint is just beginning to stir when Natasha shuts the door behind herself as quietly as possible. She looks over and offers a small smile, though he's not quite alert enough to even notice.

She moves to the side of the bed and peers down at him. The color is starting to return to his skin. Good. That means it's her turn to put a bullet in him.

"You're an idiot," she says, but any anger that had been there from speaking with Nick is gone. She's exhausted. She hasn't slept since they got back.

Clint turns his hand up, and she takes it gently, squeezes it to let him know everything is okay.

"Aside from the blood loss, you didn't sustain anything too serious. Still out of commission for awhile," there's an estimated period of recovery, but she doesn't tell him just yet. He's only going to try to 'appeal' the length of time he's given anyways.

"Hill?"

"Stable. Physically, she's fine. She might lose the tip of a finger," if she gets her hands on the bastards that did it, she's going to make sure she stomps on their goddamned fingers with her heels. Repeatedly. The damage to the bone is from repeated trauma with something along the lines of a hammer. That one injury must have been excruciating.

"Physically?"

"The drugs might have a long-term effect. She's sedated, so we won't know until she wakes up." She's not sure that sedating the patient they suspect could suffer from long term effects of drug toxicity is a good idea, but she understands why they did it for her.

Clint nods. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about the day and a half of delay between their arrival at the first location and the Tate location. There's nothing they could have done differently. So he thinks about Lucky instead.

"They're together," Natasha says after the silence has stretched on for awhile. She's not in the business of sharing secrets, but she's certain Clint deserves to know what he's just risked his life for. If this presents as a problem in the future, they can be better in keeping both Director and Assistant Director safe.

"What? Fury and-" he cuts himself off when she puts a finger to her lips.

“Huh,” he says when she nods to confirm what he’s thinking. “That explains a lot, actually.”

It doesn’t really.


End file.
